Just a Birthday Kiss
by BelleLitteraire
Summary: A story of the lost moments of 1x05 (Saturn Returns) from Evan's POV


_A/N: I will be working my way back to episodes 2-4 and filling in those Evan-centric moments as well, but after seeing last Thursday's ep I couldn't wait to write this._

* * *

"Yes, Mum, I am eating well…."

Evan's mother leaned closer to the screen and raised her voice. Evan had to stifle a smile—his technology-challenged mother was still getting used to using Skype. "Not just bangers and crap out of tins, right? Are you making the pasta dishes I showed you?"

In truth Evan had not been using any of his mother's recipes, and more often than not, he was eating a lot of pre-packaged meals he bought from the bodega just below his apartment building. "Yep, but of course they never come out as well as when you make them."

"Well that's good to hear...you look awfully thin…or is it just my screen? How's work? Have you got an assistant yet, like they'd been promising you?"

"Mum, you really don't need to yell. I can hear you just fine. And yes, work is keeping me busy, but I'm in the process of interviewing candidates, so I should have some help very soon."

"Good, good….Oh, you'll never guess who I ran into the other day. Nikki Barnes! I was doing a bit of shopping at the Marks and Spencers…"

Evan wished this conversation was taking place over the phone instead of online so he could roll his eyes. Nikki Barnes had been in love with him ever since their college days, but his mother was the only Marks who loved her back. Even years later, Mrs. Marks still harbored an undying desire to see her boy and Nikki end up together, and she never missed an opportunity to tell him whenever she "ran into" her. It's not that Evan _didn't_ like Nikki—he just never felt anything remotely romantic for her, and sometimes, whenever his mother reminded him of his single status, he wondered if he could ever feel anything for anyone else besides Cat.

"…and she says to me, she says, 'Oh Mrs. Marks, when you do talk to Evan, tell him I said hello, and that I hope that the Yanks are treating him well over there,'" his mother laughed. "Yeah, did I tell you she's still single? I can't believe it. Fellas should be falling on their knees to be with someone like Nikki. She's a nice one, Evan, and I think someday whoever's going to snatch her up will be a lucky, lucky bloke. Do you know, she's on this dating website called foreverasone dot com because she can't find a decent boyfriend! But who am I to interfere when it comes to what young people do? Talking of that, how about you, are you making time to do fun things? Or meet any new friends?"

"Um, yeah. I've learned to play this American game called softball. Cricket's the closest thing to it. And one of my friends is celebrating a birthday in a few weeks. Her sister's planning a surprise party for her, so that should be a fun time."

"But no one special yet, son?"

"Ah, Mum, when I meet her you'll be the first to know…how's that?" he smiled.

"All right!" his mother shouted over her shoulder. "For God's sake….Look, I've got to ring off now, Evan, your father's after me to get the dog out of the TV room while he's watching the bloody match. Wait, how do I ring off?" She looked down, searching across her keyboard.

"Log off, Mum, not ring off."

"Denny, get off your bum and say goodbye to Evan! And help me get off the computer!"

Evan chuckled. Sunday afternoon Skype visits with his folks never failed to amuse him.

* * *

Evan switched off the telly; nothing ever interesting was broadcast on Sunday nights. He grabbed his laptop and logged on to check his email, and maybe browse through amazon to look for a birthday gift for Cat. In his Inbox was a new message from his mother. She had copied and pasted a recipe for lemon chicken that was highly recommended by Nikki, and said that next Sunday she wanted to know how it turned out. Evan smiled and shook his head, and signed out of his email. Then he typed "foreveras1" in his browser to find out what Nikki found so fascinating about the dating site. It took only a couple of clicks around for Evan to decide to create his own dating profile.

* * *

Claire Sinclair was exactly as she looked in her profile picture. Evan had no previous experience with online dating, but he'd heard horror stories of people who did "bait-and-switches." These were people who posted younger or thinner or even doctored photos of themselves to entice responses and set up dates, but then when they actually appeared in person, were nothing like their virtual selves. But Evan was fortunate. Claire Sinclair had not hoodwinked him, and here she was in the cocktail lounge of the Empire Room, wearing a cobalt blue one-shoulder minidress that showed off her Giselle Bundchen-like legs. She was sitting at the half-moon bar, securely ensconced in the red leather bucket barstool and nursed her gin and tonic.

Evan paused at the door, and checked his reflection in the mirrored wall, satisfied that he himself cut a dashing figure in a sport jacket, starched shirt, and slacks. As he approached Claire, she turned her head and her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Hi. You must be Evan." She held her hand out and gave him a dazzling smile.

Taking her hand, he gave it mild squeeze. "Yes, I am…hello. Claire?"

"Yes, nice to meet you."

"Same here. You look much better in person than on the site."

She blushed and giggled nervously. "Thanks. Wow, I don't think you mentioned in your profile that you're British."

"I am…is that a problem?"

She giggled again. "Ah, no. As a matter of fact, I love your accent."

Evan smiled—this wasn't the first time he'd heard this compliment. He wondered sometimes if American women really fancied him or just the way he talked. But tonight, the answer didn't matter. Claire was beautiful, and he was curious about whether she was as smart as she claimed in her profile. With advanced degrees in political science and economics, as well as a penchant for mountain climbing, Claire seemed too good to be true. Fortunately they agreed on meeting just for drinks, so if this date turned out badly, Evan could be on his way with a handshake and goodbye in an hour.

However, two hours, one gin and tonic, and three glasses of white wine later, Evan found himself asking Claire if she was hungry, and whether she would join him at the restaurant for dinner. She unhesitatingly said yes to both questions.

They had no dinner reservations, but the maître d' seemed impressed enough with Evan's accent and polite request for a table that they were seated within minutes. The combination of the brilliant lighting from the crystal chandeliers and live piano music gave the restaurant an ambiance of elegance. Evan, with a light hand at the small of Claire's back, guided her to follow the white-jacketed maître d' to their table. Evan noticed that she wasn't one of those women who picked only at salads on a first date. Claire eagerly tucked into a strip steak with roasted herb potatoes.

"So tell me more about what it was like to climb the highest mountain in the world," he prompted.

In between forkfuls of steak, Claire recounted that she had made two attempts to climb Mount Everest, one of which was successful. On her second try, she said, she prepared better by hiring a native guide from the Khumbu valley, and even learned some conversational Nepali so she could communicate with him. For just a moment, Evan forgot all about the charms of Isabel and the pretty face of Cat. He thought he'd never heard anything as charming as a story about setting a goal and achieving it coming out of the beautiful mouth of Claire Sinclair. And for just that moment, Evan found himself wondering what it was like to kiss that mouth.

* * *

"Hey, it's me," Evan greeted Claire on the phone from the lab. He was in front of his computer staring at the reminder email from Heather about Cat's surprise birthday party that night.

"Hey yourself," replied Claire. "I got in this morning, and your embarrassing display of flowers was waiting for me on my desk."

Evan chuckled. "So you're saying you don't like them?"

"I didn't say that!" Claire protested, and her voice lowered on the line. "They're lovely, Evan. Thank you."

"Thank _you_ for breakfast. Those waffles were incredible. What's even more incredible is that it's been two weeks and I still think you're flawless."

Claire laughed. "Even more than I like standing on top of mountains, I love standing on top of pedestals."

"Fair enough," Evan grinned. "Hey don't forget that my friend's surprise party is tonight at nine. I'll pick you up at 8:30?"

"Wouldn't miss it. See you then."

Evan hung up and logged onto the dating site to change his profile status to "Inactive." He liked Claire enough not to meet any more women, but before he had a chance to reset his profile, his phone rang again.

"Crime lab, Dr. Marks speaking."

"Hey Evan," said Cat. "How are you?"

"Doing just fine, birthday girl. How's your day so far?"

"It would get better if you had an identity match for me on the missing persons case I'm working."

"Well, consider this a birthday gift, because in fact I do have a name for you. Want to come by?"

"Awesome. I knew I could count on you. I'll be right there."

Five minutes later, Cat plopped herself right in Evan's chair, so he sat perched on the edge of his desk. He had explained how he'd found the missing woman's identity with the use of sophisticated blood analysis software. As he spoke he noticed Cat staring at him with a look of intensity, but dismissed it and thought that she was probably really interested in how the new software worked. So he continued on with his report, and showed her the analysis results on his screen.

"Okay, mind if I print this?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, and was about to retrieve the printout when she must have minimized the application to reveal the web browser window behind it and his and Claire's dating profiles….When did he ever tell her that he could bag anyone at a bar with his accent? And, unlike his flat reactions to the other American women who told him they found his accent sexy, his heart skipped a beat when _she_ said it. She seemed to be playfully mocking him as she rattled off Claire's impressive bio, and he had to tilt forward to notice her eyebrow quirked up in mild surprise and her voice trailing off as she read "…Master's in political science and PhD in economics…" _Oh, Cat, _Evan thought,_ graduating magna cum laude from Princeton and earning top honors at the academy are nothing to scoff at. _But then, the light in her eyes that Evan interpreted as jealousy flickered out, as Heather barged in, dispelling the electric energy.

* * *

Dressed in his evening wear, Evan made a quick stop at the lab at 8:15 PM to hand over more test results to Cat and Tess.

"I don't want to keep you from your date," Cat tersely said, and Evan frowned a little at the slight contempt in her voice. That was the second time that day that Evan thought she might not be just teasing him.

"It's all right," he replied cheerfully. "She'll wait for me." Cat turned away from him, but not before he noticed that she looked a bit despondent.

* * *

He had expected to feel some excitement, an overwhelming feeling at seeing Claire when he picked her up, ten minutes later than he promised. She looked as lovely as ever and clearly so happy to see him, but even when she brushed off his apology for his tardiness with a kiss, still Evan didn't feel his pulse leap. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Cat, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Cat was reacting differently to the fact that he was dating Claire. Something about Claire was rubbing her the wrong way, which he found somewhat troubling—she hadn't cared two pins when he had told her all about Isabel. In the cab on the way to the party, he patted his pants pocket to reassure himself that he had not forgotten Cat's birthday present.

Inside the Chandler girls' apartment, Heather stood watch at the door, listening for the sound of Cat's keys in the lock. When conversation and laughter got a little too loud she called out and shushed the revelers. Claire pulled Evan close to her and whispered, "Hey did you notice the photo booth? I wonder if it's big enough for us to make out in." She smiled alluringly.

"Yeah, I saw that. I don't know if you'd noticed that a camera would be recording our every move."

Her one-word response was provocative. "Exactly," she said.

"_Shhh,_ places everyone, she's here," hissed Heather, as she turned off the lights and sprinted to the living room on the tips of her toes.

**x – x**

"So that's Catherine.…" Claire said from the kitchenette as she accepted a strawberry margarita from Evan.

"Yeah, come and meet her," Evan replied, carrying his own lime margarita glass. His eyes traveled from Cat, who was standing between Tess and Heather in the living area, back to Claire, and in Claire's eyes hung a question.

**x – x**

He had to just take a breath, even though Claire did not obviously need another margarita. He was fumbling with his words, mumbling something about not being stalker-like and being appropriately conversational about Claire. What he felt like he really needed right now was a shot of tequila instead of this fruity juice concoction. He went back over to the kitchenette, set his glass down on the island, and asked the impromptu bartender for a shot. He knocked it back with a practiced flick of his wrist, and with hooded eyes observed the perfect Claire talking to Cat, Heather, and Tess. He saw Claire walk towards the bathroom, and then the scene got interesting. Tess folded her arms and smirked, probably saying something snarky about Claire, and then laughed in reaction to what was probably something judgmental from Cat. He noticed Heather staring at Claire's shoes, probably wishing she could afford the designer brand that she wore. But what interested him the most was whether that certain light was flickering in Cat's eyes again. He picked up his lime margarita glass and went back to the trio to find out.

"Where's Claire?" he innocently asked, and all the while kept his gaze fixed on Cat. All he saw was the bright smile of a birthday girl.

**x – x**

Claire hung onto his arm and searched his face. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, sure, aren't you?"

"I don't really know anyone here except you…so, not really…" Claire looked almost guilty in her attempt at honesty.

"I'm sorry. But you haven't had any cake yet. Are you sure you want to leave now?"

"Well, maybe after some cake I better call it a night. I need to go to the bathroom again. Be right back."

Evan searched the room for Cat, and for the first time that night, she wasn't held up in conversation. He grabbed a couple of tequila shots and went over to talk to her. But their private moment was interrupted when he felt Claire pull on his arm again: "Hey, the photo booth is free…."

When Cat blew out her birthday candles, Evan noticed the wistfulness in her eyes. He wondered why she wasn't happy on a day that all her friends celebrated on her behalf, and that he personally was grateful for, because she came into the world.

**x – x**

"I think you want to stay, Evan," said Claire, as they stood in an unoccupied corner of the apartment, less crowded now that some of the guests were leaving.

"No, no, let me just get my coat and I'll ring for a cab."

"If you'd call a cab for me I'd appreciate it, but you stay. Really."

The look in Claire's expectant eyes told him that she waited to know whether he'd leave with her or stay with Cat. "I'd like to stay a little while longer, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Claire's face fell and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "Sure. I hope you have a good night."

**x – x**

Evan's long legs climbed two at a time back up the stairs to the now-dwindling party. He saw Cat crane her head around a couple of guests who were pulling on their jackets. She gave him a short nod and a smile before turning her attention back to the guests as they made their goodbyes. He helped himself to a beer—Jose Cuervo seemed to have already run out—and chatted with Joe and Tess until they, too, checked their watches and headed out the door.

By now Evan himself had hit a wall and with Cat still mingling with her other guests, decided that he wasn't going to get her alone again tonight. On his way out, he said, "I'm going to have to get going, sweetheart."

**x – x**

He did finally manage to end up alone with her—in the photo booth that the woman he was seeing wanted to make out with him in.

Cat was in a playful mood. "Let's just do something different. Think fast." She looked straight at the camera and struck a sexy pose, puckering her lips. And what he did was fast—maybe it was all the tequilas and margaritas and beers rushing in his veins, but he didn't think about it, he just closed the small space between them in the photo booth and crushed his lips to hers. Initially he felt her body stiffen in response, but as his mouth moved over hers he felt her open her lips slightly and her hands move to his wrists. He heard the flash of the last photo being taken coincide with a small moan from the base of her throat, and he could taste the strawberry and salt on her lips. She felt so warm, and her faint scent of gardenias threatened to overwhelm his senses. This was what he had been waiting to feel tonight: an effervescence that started in the pit of his stomach and then swirled around his heart and lungs, making his pulse and breathing rush. When she moved her hands from his wrists up to his forearms he instinctively wanted to bring his hands up to touch her face, but at that moment she clenched her fingers around his forearms and pulled back. Evan opened his eyes, his heart brimming with the happiness he hoped was reflected in his eyes, but he took one look at her expression—a fusion of surprise and sadness—and he was devastatingly at a loss for words. "I have to go," he mumbled, and scrambled out of the booth.

Cat followed him out, her voice pleading. "Evan, you don't have to….I've had a little too much to drink, and you obviously thought…"

When he turned to face her his cool, collected mask was firmly in place. "Just for the record, you didn't push me away."

**x – x**

_It was just a birthday kiss,_ Evan told himself. It's not a big deal—like she said, they'd both had too much to drink and their heads weren't on straight.

As Evan left he passed the kitchenette for the last time that night and placed the small box that was her birthday gift on the island counter. Then he closed her apartment door softly behind him.


End file.
